I Promise
by ILoveBooks987
Summary: Tony Stark has everything most people want. Except a child. Isadora Stark has been alone for most of her life, no parents and no home. And she was okay with it. When she catches SHIELD's eye, her life is turned upside down. Will Tony be able to adapt to the life of parenthood, especially with a child as broken as she is? Or will he fail, like his own father?
1. Chapter 1

*** I DO NOT OWN ANY MARVEL CHARACTERS! ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO MARVEL COMICS! ALL RIGHTS FOR ANY OTHER CHARACTERS AND STORIES NOT MENTIONED IN MARVEL COMICS BELONG TO ILOVEBOOKS987! ***

Tony POV

"Tony," Pepper said for the umpteenth time. I spun around in my chair and looked back at her, taking my eyes off another one of my projects. I didn't want to be bothered, but Pepper insisted.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I said to her. She narrowed her eyes at my tone. Uh-oh.

"Don't 'sweetheart' me, Tony. I've been trying to talk to you all morning." She frowned as she crossed her arms over chest. I looked down, feeling bad that I had made that frown appear on her face.

"I'm sorry," I say to her sincerly, "I got too caught up in my work. What did you need to say?" Pepper's expressoin softened as she uncrossed her amrs and made her way over to me. I wrapped my arms around her as she sat down sideways on my lap, leaning her head against my shoulder.

"Fury wants to talk to you," she said quietly. I immediately stiffened as memories of the recent past clouded my thoughts.

"The last time Fury wanted to talk to me," I began, "I ended up fighting aliens from outer space." Pepper looked up at me sympathetically, placing her hand on my cheek. I immediately leaned into her hand, enjoying the warmth of her touch. Pepper's the most important person in my life. I loved her like crazy and would give up all of my worldly possessions for her.

"I know it brings bad memories," she said quietly, "But maybe it's for a good reason. It might be very important."

"If the word 'alien' so much as enters the conversation at any point, I will-" I was sileneced as Pepper pressed her lips softly against mine. I sighed in content as I closed my eyes, kissing her back gently. She pulled away after a few seconds and leaned her forehead against mine. I looked into her eyes as I smiled slightly.

"I love you," I whispered to her as I pressed my lips to hers again for a second. She smiled wide, revealing her perfect, white teeth beneath her red lipstick covered lips.

"I love you, too," she whispered back. She gave me one final kiss before she got up from my lap.

"I'll let you get back to your work, ." She said with a smirk on her face. I gave her a smirk of my own as I turrned back around to my project.

"Thank you, Miss Pots." I heard the sound of her heels hitting the floor as she made her way up the stairs. What a woman, I thought to myself as I picked up the electric screw driver. I began working again before my mind began to wander.

What did Fury need to talk to me about? I refuse to be apart of any other alien/god/outerspace battle. My health can't take it anymore. I mean, my heart's functioning fine and everything else, but something's wrong. I can't sleep. Everytime I try, I get nightmares about that day. I wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. Pepper holds me while I try to calm down. I would never admit this to anyone, too embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

I'm Tony Stark. I'm a billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist. I've got everything I could possibly want. I shouldn't be having nightmares. I'm actually getting a little worried. Everytime I have a nightmare, it gets a little scarier each time.

I shook my head, trying to rid my thoughts of anything that didn't have to do with mechanics.

"I don't want to do this," I said to Pepper nervously as we walked through S.H.I.E.L.D. My palms were sweating and my hands shook slightly. I noticed my heart was beating rapidly.

"I know, sweetheart. But you have to. I'll be right outside if you need me." We had finally reached Fury's office. I looked at the door, feeling intimidated for the first time in a long time. What if it was bad news? What if it was good news?

Pepper kissed my cheek sweetly, before she sat down on one of the waiting chairs and pulled out her tablet.

I opened the door to find Nick sitting at his desk, hands folded neatly on top. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised as I took my seat.

"Knocking is usually the customary way of enetring a closed door," Nick said blankly. I looked at him impatiently, wanting to get this over with.

"I don't have all day, Patchy," I said rudely as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Get on with it." Nick sighed and shook his head. He opened one of his drawers and pulled out a file, lightly setting it on the desk. I reached for it, but Nick slammed his hand down on it.

"Wait," he said as he looked at me, "We need to talk first."

"Oh, the 'We need to talk' kind of conversation. You braking up with me, Nick?" I responded like the smartass I am.

"Do you remember Arabella Carter?" He said completely ignoring my statement.

"Um, yeah," I said scratching my head, "I dated her a couple years ago." Arabella was a scientist who I had worked with for one of my weapons. We had ended up dating, but I ended it after a few months. She had become unbarably clingy and started drinking more so than I had. Now that's saying something.

"Fifteen years ago, to be exact."

"Okay, what does this have to do with anything?" I asked him. I was getting seriously impatient. Where the hell was this leading to?

"Are you sure, Tony?" Fury asks me with an uncertain look on his face.

"Just say it, dammit!" I yelled as I sprung up from the chair, slamming my fists down on the desk and my breathing turning raged.

"You have a daughter, Tony."


	2. Chapter 2

Tony POV

"You have a daughter, Tony." Those five words kept ringing in my head as I sat there in Nick's office. He had gone to go do something. If he had mentioned it, I wasn't paying attention. I was a little distracted.

A daughter? Are you kidding me? I can't be a father! I can't be that responsible, especially for another human that I gave life to. What if I turn this kid into a screw up? I don't want that kind of pressure on my shoulders! I can't do this! Are they even sure this kid is mine?

I heard the door open and softly shut. I felt a small hand on my shoulder. I immediately knew it was Pepper. She didn't say anything for at first, just kept her hand there as I stared off into space, thinking.

"Nick told me," she said quietly, "I don't know what to say, Tony." I didn't answer for a while, just continued staring off.

"There is nothing you can say, Pepper. You didn't do anything." Pepper sighed quietly as she dropped her bag to the ground, making her way over to stand in front of me. Crouching down, she levels her face with mine as she cups my cheeks with her small hands and looks me in the eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Tony. You'll find a solution. You always do." I gave her a soft smile as I pulled her to sit on my lap. She makes herself comfortable as I move a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"What if I screw this kid up? What if she's already screwed up? Pepper, I can't do this. I'd be a horrible fath-" Pepper silenced me with a soft kiss.

"Don't say that," she said after she pulled away. She looked into my eyes seriously as she continued. "I'm sure you will be a wonderful father. Tony, you can do this." I looked back at her and sighed.

"You know you're good at this kind of stuff. You should be one of those motivational speakers that goes and talks to kids. You'd be good at that." Pepper shook her head as she let out a small laugh. She opened her mouth to say something, but we were interrupted by the sound of a door openeing.

"Tony, would you like to meet her?" Fury asked me quietly. I looked at him. than back at Pepper. She nodded her head in encouragment.

"Sure," I responded lamely as Pepper got up from my lap. pulling me up in the process.

She held my hand reassuringly as Nick led us down into where my . . . daughter was. I had asked to not be told anything about her, so I didn't even know this girl's name. I could feel the nervousness building up in my chest as my heart began to beat rapidly again. What if she hates me, I thought to mysef as we rounded yet another corner. What if she doesn't want me in her life? I know I said I didn't want a kid, but to still be rejected by your own flesh and blood...

We stopped at the outside of a big metal door. This was it.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter, Tony?" I nodded my head hesitantly. It's now or never, Tony. You got this, big guy.

Nick opened the door, and there sat my daughter.

Isadora POV

I was awoken from my deep sleep by a pretty redhead woman wearing a skin-tight, dark blue suit.

"Are you Isadora?" She asked me with a polite smile as she crouched down.

"Y-Yes," I responded quietly. I was never really much of a talker and whenever the oppurtunity to do so came up, my voice always trembled.

"Well, Isadora. Why are you sleeping in an alley?" She asked me quietly with a sincere expression on her face.

I had fallen asleep here last night, not being able to walk anymore from the extreme cold and hunger I was experiencing. I spotted the alley around the time I thought I was going to die for sure that night, and thanked the heavens I found it. I usually slept in alleys or behind buildings, so it didn't bother me at all. Dare I say it, but I was actually comfortable.

"I a-always sleep in a-alleys," I responded in a whisper. Her expression turned to one of sadness. Why on earth was she sad?

"You don't have a home?" the pretty woman asked me with a frown. I shook my head to answer no, and her frown deepened.

"Well, that's going to change." she said with a firm voice. My eyebrows shot up in suprise at her words. What did she mean by that?

"My name is Natasha," she said as she extended her hand, "I work for a goverment agency named S.H.I.E.L.D, which stands for-"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division," I interrupted her quietly, "I-I know." She looks at me with a smile.

"You've always been a smart one, haven't you?" Natasha questioned with a smirk. I nodded my head.

I had always excelled in my academic studies. I was actually a senior in high school, even though I should be a freshman. Everything just came to me naturally. Especially math, science, and languages. My teachers were astonished that I could pass the advanced courses so easily. I checked out language books from the Boston Public Library all the time, so I could speak Spanish, French, Italian, German, and Greek fluently. It came in handy a lot.

Even thought I didn't have a school or family, I still had enrolled myself in school when I ran away. I had paid some people to act as my parents so the school wouldn't get suspicious. I also did it under a fake name and had gotten fake copies of birth certificates, social security and all that. Since I never got in trouble, the school never needed to see my non-exsistent parents.

"You're going to have to come with me, Isadora." Natasha said as she stood back up. I looked at her with an expression of fear etched on my face.

"A-Are you taking me t-to the orphanage? Are you a-arressting m-me?" I stuttered as tears welled up in my eyes. Natasha's facial expression immediately softened as she looked at me.

I had bad experiences with the orphanage. Believe it or not, Boston only had one orphanage. Sundance Orphanage was not as cheery as it sounded. The director there, Mr. Hortz, was very cruel to the children there. Always beating us, he worked us to the bone as we starved and froze during the winter. I had finally had enough when I turned five and ran away, beginning the life I now live today.

"No, no sweetheart," she said, "We're here to help you. I'm going to take you to the S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters. We have some news you might want to here." News? What kind of news, I wonder.

"O-Okay," I responded as I shivered from the cold. It was winter time here in Boston time, and schools just let out for the holiday break yesterday. That meant that I had to spend most of the day outside since I wasn't in the school building.

Natasha grabbed my backpack for me as I got up from the icy ground. I wrapped my thin jacket around me tighter, trying to stop the winter chill from going in.

"This way," she instructed as she walked out of the alley towards a sleek, black car. She opened the back door for me and I climbed in without a word, marveling at the magical machine as she got into the driver's seat.

"You look pretty amazed at all this," she said as she turned onto the road, "Why is that?"

"I-I've never ridden in a car before," I spoke quietly. I saw her frown through the rearview mirror. What's with all the frowning?

"Well, what do you think of it?" She asked as she continued driving on the busy streets of Boston. I marveled at the way she easily swirved in and out of traffic, speeding along the black ice roads.

"I-I thought it would be more of a t-terrifying experience." She laughed at my words. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence as she concentrated on the road and I looked around at the city known as Boston. It really was a beautiful place. The gigantic buildings, the many people walking around. It was nice.

I notced the car stop and I looked in front of me to see a small jet. It looked very nice and expensive. The black jet had the S.H.I.E.L.D logo on the side of it.

I got out of the car quickly, grabbing my backpack as I shut the door. Natasha had already made her way to the stairs of the plane. I walked over to her speedily, not wanting to keep anyone waiting.

"So I take it you've never been in a plane either?" she asked with a small smile. I returned the gestire and nodded my heasd. Natashadidn't say anything after that, just motioned with her hand for me to get into the plane.

I walked up the steps carefully, feeling intimidated by such a big machine. I entered the jet to see luxurious, leather seats scattered around it. Some were lined up against the wall of the jet while others were alone. Carpet lined the floor and tables were neatly placed near the seats.

I felt a presence behind me and turned to see a muscular man short, blonde hair. I immediately jumped and moved away from him, turning towards him and holding my backpack to my chest as if it would actually protect me.

The man had a confused expression on his face and it softened as he noticed my trembling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss," he apologized quietly, "I didn't mean to frighten you. My name is Steve Rogers." I stared at him, trying to judge his character. He looked very familiar.

Before I could say anything, Natasha walked into the plane.

"I see you've met Captain Rogers," she said with a smile before she went and took her seat. Oh! He's Captain America! Now I know why he looked so familiar! We had read about him briefly in History class. I found his story absolutely fascinating. It was quite sad, though. Poor guy, waking up in a completely different world. Must be tough.

"H-Hello," I say quietly when I realized that I was just standing there staring at him.

"What's your name, miss?" He asked politely as he sat down and buckled himself in. Natasha motioned with her eyes for me to do the same. I picked the seat closest to Natasha and buckled the seatbelt.

"Isadora," I say. His eyebrows raised in interest.

"Isadora? That's not a common name. Beautiful, but not common. What ethnicity is it derived from?" He questioned as I felt the jet's engines slowly begin to turn. A voice came on throughout the plane.

"Okay, everyone. We are ready for takeoff. If you haven't already, please fasten your seatbelts. We should arrive in New York in about 2 hours. Thank you." Suddenly, the feeling of being airborne hit me and I looked outside the window to see we were quickly going up into the clouds. It was so beautiful.

Remebering that Steve had asked me a question, I turned back to him. "It's G-Greek."

"Really?" He said, "That's interesting. Are you of Greek heritage?"

I nodded my head. "Yes, my m-mother was from Kozani, a s-small city in the West Macedonia r-region of Greece." Steve smiled as I spoke.

"That's very nice. I've heard Greece is very beautiful. Have you ever been?"

I shooke my head no. "Unfortunately, I have n-not. Hopefully, s-some day. I would like t-to go and s-see where my f-family comes from." Steve nodded, not adding any comments. It was silent for a while until Natasha spoke up.

"Isadora," she said quietly, "S.H.I.E.L.D has looked at your official file. It's been empty since you were five. The government had lost sight of you. Do you want to tell me what happened?" I thought about it for a second, pondering whether I should tell them or not.

"W-Well," I began, "I r-ran away from the o-orphanage when I w-was five. Th-the director there was very m-mean and . . ." I hesistated, not wanting to tell them anymore. What if I got in trouble?

"Sweetie, you need to tell us everything. It's very important that you do." She said quietly as she leaned foward in her seat. Steve had leaned foward as well, resting his elbows on his knees.

"O-Oh, well . . . h-he would . . . b-beat u-us." I stuttered out quietly as I held onto my backpack. Steve looked angry while Natasha remained calm.

"Is that it?" She asked quietly. I shook my head. "What else did he do?"

"H-He made us w-work a l-lot. C-cleaning and d-doing stuff around the h-house. . . H-He didn't r-really feed us t-too much either. I-I usually ate about e-every two t-to three days." Steve's eyes widened.

"Days?" He asked with a raised voice. I shrunk back in my chair, not wanting him to hit me in anger. "What do you mean days?" Before Steve could continue, Natasha put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Steve, you're scaring her." She whispered to him. He looked at Natasha than back to me with an apologetic face.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to scare you." I nodded my head in understanding. Natasha had stopped asking questions, probably not wanting to frighten me anymore. The rest of the trip was silent, but I didn't mind. It gave me time to think.

What kind of news did S.H.I.E.L.D need to share with me? Was it really that important? I tried to think of all the possible things it could be. Natasha said they weren't taking me back to the orphanage or arresting me. Maybe . . . Maybe they found a long lost relative. Oh, how wonderful that would be. Maybe . . . Maybe they found one of my parents.

Probably not, I thought to myself. You're parents are probably dead, Isadora. Deal with it. Suck it up. You don't need love, you don't need love.

I had completely zoned out during the journey, and barely noticed when we landed. Natasha instructed me to unbuckle myself and go outside into the waiting black car. She said her and Steve would be there in a minute and that they needed to discuss some things. I nodded my head obediently, not wanting to cause any trouble.

I made my way outside of the plane and immediately shivered. It was even colder here than in Boston. Lovely.

I shivered violently as I made my way over to the parked car and got into the backseat. Thankfully, no one else was in here. Talk about awkward.

I waited patiently in the car for Steve and Natasha, not wanting to interrupt them. They probably needed to discuss some classified S.H.I.E.L.D information not meant for all ears. I wonder what it could be about.

About a minute later, I saw Natasha and Steve make their way down from the plane and head towards the car. They got in quickly, trying to escape the bone chilling cold.

"It's freezing," Natasha muttered as she started up the car. She drove out of the lot and onto the main streets of New York, soon hitting the famous traffic. I looked up at the huge buildings around me. They were so tall, seeming as if they touched the sky. Hence, the name skyscraper. I looked around at all the people walking around the city, going on with their normal lives.

Steve looked back at me from the passenger seat and notced what I wore. I had on dirty blue jeans, a long-sleve black shirt, and a thin pink jacket covered in grime. I wore an old pair of off-brand blue converse, torn up with holes and extremely filthy.

"Are you cold?" He asked with a small frown. Lie, Isadora. The truth hurts. Literally.

I shook my head rapidly. "You sure?" He asked again, uncertain. I nodded my head. He sighed and turned back around in his seat, reaching over and blasting the heater on high. He faced the vents toward me and I almost moaned. The warmth felt so good against my almost frozen skin. I leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes. Before I knew it, I had fallen fast asleep.

Soon, I heard the sounds of car doors openeing and closing and people taking in whispers. Yet, I was still asleep. I only picke up some of the conversation, but from the little bit that I did hear I recognized Steve and Natasha's voices.

". . . Don't want to wake her up . . . Poor thing. . . "

". . .Carry her . . . Must be exhausted. . . " I drifted in and out as I felt someone lift me up from the backseat and placed me to where my head was on their shoulder and their arm under my bottom, the way a child was usually carried. I figured that it was Steve who was carrying me from the muscualr feeling of his shoulder and the smell of his cologne. It was comforting, to be so close to another person.

I noticed the change in temperature as we stepped inside. I also noticed the way the lights got brighter even through my closed lids. We walked for quite awhile until I felt Steve stop and slowly move me to something I assumed was a sofa.

I sunk into the soft cushions and tried to cuddle deeper into them, loving how it was so soft. It was the softest thing I had ever slept on. Back at the orphanage, I didn't have a bed. Just a small blanket was given to me. Nights were very hard, especially during the winter.

". . .Have to wake her up . . . Fury called. . . Tony's here. . ." I heard Natasha say quietly. I wonder who this Tony person was. Maybe their boss or something.

I opened my eyes slowly to find myself in a white room, laying on a white sofa. I looked around to see that everything was . . . white. White tables, white chairs. How boring, I thought to myself.

"Isadora, honey," Steve said to me. I looked at him, shocked. No one had ever called me honey. "We need to go to a different room. That's where you'll be told the news." I nodded my head, eager to find out what was so important.

I followed Natasha and Steve down many hallways as we walked through S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters. Once again, everything was white. How suprising. We passed by a few agents on the way, all of them not even giving me a second glance. Good.

We finally stopped at a metal door. Opening it, Natasha, Steve and I walked into the room. There was nothing but a metal table with two metal chairs and a mirror on the wall. Probably a two way mirror, I thought to myself. Not an uncommon thing in what I'm assuming is an interrigation room.

"Wait here, okay?" said Steve in a soft voice. I nodded my head nad made my way over to one of the chairs as I heard the door close and lock.

I sunk down into the chair, dropping my bag onto the floor beside me. I looked around the room, already getting bored. At least when I would walk around Boston, I'd see something different everyday to keep me entertained. But this, this was boring.

I put my head down on my arms ontop of the table, closing my eyes and just thinking. Thinking about why I'm here, why I was born, Why I have the life I have. After about thirty minutes, I heard multiple footstep coming towards the room.

I sat up immediately, ready to run if it was an attacker. I heard the door being unlocked and my breath hitched in my throat. This is it, I thought to myself. The big news. I sat up straighter as the door opened slowly.

I looked at the open door to see a handsome man with a goatee, wearing a button up, white shirt witht the sleeves rolled up to his elbowa and jeans. His brown hair was neatly combed back and he wore a gold watch on his wrist.

I looked at his eyes and gasped.

He was crying.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony POV

She was so beautiful.

That was the only thing I could think when I laid eyes on her.

She had my brown eyes and brown hair, slightly wavy as it reached a little below her waist. Her skin was like her mother's, tan and Greek. Her lips were a blood red, just like her mother's. She was of average height for a fifteen year old, but extremely thin. Her cheekbones were more visible than they should be, and her cheeks were slightly hallow. My . . . child. God, that's going to take some getting used to.

"Hey, kid," I say a little awkwardly. She looks at me, not saying a word. Probably freaked out.

"So, what's your name?" I ask her, hoping to get an answer. When I had asked Fury not to tell me anything about her, I meant it. I didn't want to hear it from him, considering he is a spy. He is THE spy. His secrets have secrets.

"I-Isadora," she stuttered out quietly as she refused to make eye contact with me.

"Isadora?" I questioned, taking a seat in the available chair on the other side of the table. "I'm guessing that's Greek?"

She nodded her head quickly "Y-Yes, sir."

"Just like your mother," I said quietly. She looked up at the mention of her mother. Curiosity burned in her eyes, along with something else I didn't want to see. Fear and pain. No one ever wants to see their child in pain. Even if you've only known them for a couple of minutes, it still bothered you.

"My m-mother, sir?" Isadora says with interest. I look at her with a smile, loving the way her eyes showed so much emotion.

"Um, yeah," I answer a little late. "Yeah, I knew your mother." Her eyebrows raised in shock. She was barely seated on the chair, almost jumping up from what I guessed and hoped was excitement.

"You d-did, sir?" She questioned me with a small smile. "What w-was she like?" I got a puzzled look on my face. Hasn't she been living with her mother all these years? Who's she been living with?

Realization finally hit me and my heart dropped into my stomach. I felt nauseated as I Iooked at my daughter. No, I thought to myself. She can't be an . . . orphan. She can't.

"You don't live with your mother?"

She shakes her head. "N-No, sir. I never h-have. All I-I know is that her n-name is Stacia Z-Zervos and she was f-from Kozani. That's it, s-sir." I look at her with a pained expression as she opens her mouth to say something, "H-How did you know m-my mother, sir?" She whispers in fear. I can see her trembling, afraid of what she thinks I'm going to do to her.

Anger filled me immediately. Something or someone had made my daughter afraid. No one is naturally scared to ask questions. My poor daughter . . .

"Isadora," I say quietly. I look at her with the same pained expression as before. How would she react to me telling her I was her father? Would she be happy? Sad? Angry? Indifferent? I hoped for the first.

"I'm . . . your father." I say clearly. I look up at her to gauge her reaction. She looks at me first with a confused expression, as if she was still processing what I had said. Then, a shocked expression overcame her face.

"Y-You're m-m-my father-r-r?" She nearly yelled. I nodded my head. She keeps looking at me, as if she were inspecting me to make sure I'm really her father. Her eyes travelled from my head down to my torso as she took me in. Suddenly, a look of sadness overcomes her face as she looks down. And I might have imagined it, but I saw a tear run down her cheek.

"Why d-didn't y-you w-w-want m-m-me-e-e?" She whispered in a broken voice, wiping the cascade of tears off her cheeks.

My heart broke in that instant. All of my selfishness and greed disappeared as I looked at my daughter crying, questioning me about something I didn't know about. In that moment, I realized that I had accepted being a father and would put her first. Always.

I got up from my chair quietly and slowly made my way to her. I crouched down in front of her, pulling her hands away from her face and holding them in mine as I looked into her tear filled eyes.

"Isadora, I didn't know you existed until a couple of hours ago." I whispered with so much emotion in my voice. I could feel my throat tightening, the urge to let the unwanted tears spill over my eyes increased. Tony Stark isn't supposed to cry. "Your mother and I had separated from each other around the time she got pregnant with you. I hadn't heard from her since the day we decided to go separate ways. I'm . . ." I stopped, not being able to get the words out without bursting into tears. I cleared my throat as I let only one tear roll down my cheek. "I'm so sorry," I say to her closing my eyes as I continued to let the tears fall.

I felt her warm hands wipe my tears away. I looked up to see her smiling at me, her eyes crinkled slightly. Just like me, I thought to myself.

"D-Don't be upset," she whispers, "There's nothing to be sorry f-for. Like you s-said, you didn't know."

I smile at her, instantly falling in love with my daughter. I had known her for a few short minutes, but she had already captured my heart. It's crazy to think it possible for someone to live another person almost instantly. I never really was good with human emotions.

"So," I began as I went over and dragged my chair to sit next to her, "Tell me more about yourself. What's your middle name?"

"Gia," she responded quietly.

"Gia?" I question lightly, "What does that mean?"

"It's Greek, meaning 'earth'" She says with a smile. I smile back as I look at her.

"That's a nice name. It suits you." She blushes and looks down, thanking me. "Where do you live?"

"Boston, Massachusetts." I looked at her knowingly. That's where her mother and I had met at a conference. It wasn't love at first sight at all. More like "lust at first sight". Her mother was breathtaking, tall and leggy with blonde hair and green eyes. She was a bombshell. Little did I know that looks can be deceiving. She was an ugly person on the inside. Rude, uncaring, and selfish. I was to blinded by lust to see past her external beauty until the day we separated.

"And I'm assuming you live with a foster family?" I continue quietly. Her face is suddenly clouded with sadness as she looks down, avoiding my gaze. She shook her head slightly.

"No?" I say, "Than, at an orphanage?" She shakes her head again, still not looking up at me. Now I'm beginning to get confused. She's an orphan. Correction: She was an orphan. She didn't live with foster parents or at an orphanage. Where had she been living? She's not old enough to live on her own, considering she's probably around fifteen years old. It doesn't make any sense.

"Well where do you live?" I ask as she looks up at me. The same fear and pain is still in her eyes. How badly I wanted to make that pain go away.

Dear god, I'm getting soft. Tony Stark is not a soft person. I'm rock hard. I don't have emotions and I save the world on a weekly basis. But that's all changed in a matter of hours just because of a small girl.

"W-Well," she stutters out quietly, then pauses hesitantly. Not wanting to continue, she looks down and begins to play with the hem of her shirt. I wonder why she stutters, I think to myself. Does she have speech problems or is she just cold? Is she scared of something?

"You can tell me, sweetie," I whisper to her. She looks up at me with an expression of shock on her face. Why was she so shocked about small things? It's like she's never had the opportunity to experience certain things until today. Like she's been deprived her whole life.

"W-Well," she says again, this time quieter. "I-I . . . d-don't . . . l-live . . . a-anywhere."

I stared at her blankly, processing the words over an over again in my mind. I don't live anywhere. I don't live anywhere. I don't live anywhere. I began to feel nauseated again, wiping the sweat from my brow as I placed my forehead against the cool metal table. My hands reach up and grab my chest as the pain starts. Oh god, please not again.

The familiar fear creeps up my spine as my breathing turns into gasping. I shut my eyes in fear as I grab at my chest. I can faintly hear Isadora get up from the chair abruptly, the metal furniture pier hitting the floor with a loud clang. She grips my shoulders tightly and attempts to calm me down.

"Mr. Tony! Someone help! Please!" She tells to no one in particular.

The next thing I hear is the sound of the metal door bursting open and a pair of high heels running towards my direction. I feel someone grab my head lightly and force me to look up. Opening my eyes slightly, I'm met with nothing but a blinding white light.

"Tony!" I hear Pepper yell as my eyes shut again and darkness envelopes my mind as I loose consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Isadora POV

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. What do I do?!

"Mr. Tony! Someone help! Please!" I yelled out randomly. Hopefully, someone heard me. I could feel myself quickly entering panic mode. I rubbed Tony's shoulders in an attempt to calm him down, but nothing seemed to happen.

All of a sudden, the door burst open to reveal a very pretty lady. She wore a professional black dress with white heels. She had blonde-reddish hair and a pretty face. Her blue eyes shown with true fear and worry.

She ran over to Tony quickly, her heels making a loud clacking sound on the floor. Grabbing Tony's head, she forced him to look up at her. But, all he could do was just stare up into space.

"Tony!" She yelled at him. I slowly started to back away into the corner, terrified and afraid. Is he dying? What had I done to cause this? Oh, it's all my fault. The guilt began to eat at my heart and mind as I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, slumped over and crying into my hands. I heard more footsteps enter and leave the room. I had assumed they had taken Tony to the medical wing.

A few seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, expecting to see the pretty lady, but instead was met with Steve looking at me with a small frown.

"Hey," he said with a small smile, "Are you alright?"

I shook my head. "I-It's all m-m-my f-fault." I cried into my hands. I felt Steve shift positions to sit next to me as he placed a strong arm around me. He pulled me to his chest and held me as I cried into his shirt.

"No, sweetheart," he said quietly as he rubbed my arm, "This isn't your fault." I looked up at him and sniffled, tears still running down my cheeks. Steve reached up and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

"What h-h-happened to h-him?" I stuttered out in a whisper. Steve just pulled me into another hug and didn't say anything for a few seconds. Considering he wasn't talking, I assumed the worst. "H-He's d-d-dead, isn't h-he? I k-killed my f-f-father!" I began to sob even more. Steve pulled away and held me at arm's length, gripping my shoulders softly as he looked at me with shock and sadness.

"No, Isadora," Steve explained, "He's okay. He just had an anxiety attack." Relief flooded me as I listened to his words. He was okay. My father was okay. But I still couldn't help but feel that all of this was my fault.

"I-It's still my f-fault," I whispered. Steve pulled me back into the embrace of his arms and held me tightly. I sighed in content. It felt good to have somebody comfort you. I never knew the feeling until today.

"Isadora," He began, "It is not your fault, sweetheart. Tony's been having a lot of anxiety attacks lately. He's been really stressed out and anxious. Hence, the anxiety attack." I looked up at him as he explained. I felt some of the guilt leave my heart and mind as I pondered his words.

"R-Really?" I asked him quietly, "I-I didn't k-kill him?"

Steve laughed softly and responded, "No, you didn't kill him."

I smiled up at him. "W-Well, that's g-good." Steve let out a laugh and I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle myself. We sat there and just laughed for a good few minutes. It felt nice to laugh. I hadn't laughed in a very long time.

"You hungry?" Steve asked as he stood up. He offered me his hand and I took it willingly, letting him pull me up off the floor. I had gotten used to his touch, and I trusted him. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Neither would Natasha.

"N-No," I lied quietly. I was very hungry, actually. Starving. I hadn't eaten in two days, but more important things were at hand right now. Besides, I didn't have much money on me. Not enough for a whole meal, anyways. I didn't want to burden them either. I could take care of myself just fine. I'd go down to the market later and buy an apple. That sounded nice. And maybe a slice of bread as well . . .

"Are you sure, honey?" Steve questioned as he led me out of the interrogation room, his arm draped lightly on my shoulders. "You look like you could use a little food in you." I looked down at myself. I knew I was really skinny. And I knew I could've used some food in me too.

"I-I'll be okay," I told him. He nodded his head with a slight frown. I didn't like to see him frown. I didn't like to see anyone frown. Especially people I cared for.

"You want to go meet the rest of the team?" He asked suddenly. The team? What team? Oh my. Did he mean . . .?

"D-Do you m-mean the A-Avengers?" I asked him quietly. He looked down with a small smile and nodded, questioning how I knew about them. "Y-You guys were a-all over the n-news."

Steve nodded again. "Yeah, Loki had made a pretty big mess. So, how about it? You want to meet them?" I thought about his question as we continued walking. What if they didn't like me? They might not be welcoming towards children. Well I wasn't a child in my eyes, but still.

"A-Are," I hesitated, "Are they n-nice?" Steve looked at me with a small smile on his handsome face. He turned yet another corner in this maze of hallways. I was beginning to get slightly dizzy.

"Yes, they're very nice." He responded reassuringly. I became a little more comfortable with the idea of meeting "the team." If Steve said they were nice, then I believed him. After a few more crazy turns, we reached what I assumed to be another lounge. It was very different from the last one I was in. Through the glass front door, I could see this one had way more color. With its two grey walls, a wall to wall window, black furnishings, and a few red accents it was very nicely put together.

As we entered, I noticed a man with curly brown and glasses sitting at a black table, typing away on his laptop. He wore a lavender button up tucked into black slacks with grey converse. How fun. Next to him, I saw Natasha dressed in her suit talking to a man with short, brown hair and a handsome face. He wore an official S.H.I.E.L.D uniform like Natasha's, except his was sleeveless and wasn't as tight. Standing at the window gazing out at the city, a tall and muscular blond man wore grey and black armor with no sleeves. Next to him on the floor rested a large hammer. None of them noticed our entrance, so Steve took the liberty of announcing us.

"Hey guys," He said. Everyone turned to look at us and I gulped nervously. I never liked people looking at me. I don't like attention. "This is Isadora, Tony's daughter." They all moved towards us and I immediately shrunk back. Reflex.

"Hello," the man with curly hair said, "My name is Bruce Banner. It's nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out and I stared at it curiously. After a few seconds, I decided to shake his hand. He seemed harmless. But yet again, he wasn't angry. As soon as he said his name, I recognized him immediately. He was such an intelligent man. I had read about him before in some books and was quite familiar with his work.

"Likewise," I said quietly, "I'm a big fan of your work on gamma radiation, Dr. Banner." He smiled as we both dropped our hands.

"Well thank you, Isadora." He responded quietly. The man with talking to Natasha was the next one to come up and greet me.

"Hey," he said in a deep voice, "I'm Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye. Nice to meet you." I shook his hand as well, but less willingly. His big arms and stern face scared me slightly. After we shook hands, Natasha then came up to hug me. I smiled at her as she fixed my hair. I probably looked like hell.

"You okay?" She asked me in a soft voice. I nodded my head yes. She returned my smile and moved over to stand next to Clint. Next came the big, blonde man. I recognized him, but didn't know his name.

"It's a pleasure, Lady," He grabbed my hand and placed a small kiss on the back. I smiled at him. "I am Thor Odinson, God of Thunder." Ah, Thor! He was the adoptive brother of Loki and son of Odin and Gaea, Goddess of Earth, but was raised by Frigga, Odin's wife, on Asgard. I knew a little bit of Norse Mythology.

"It seems as if chivalry is not dead," I responded with a small smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Thor." He smiled back at me as he dropped my hand.

After I had finished speaking with him, I noticed that my stuttering had stopped. I smiled on the inside, glad that I had gotten rid of that horrible habit. Now that I was using my voice more often, it shouldn't come back. I would go days on end without speaking to anyone before. Quite a lonely life, really.

"So," said Bruce as he went to laptop, "What kind of name is Isadora?"

"It's Greek," I responded quietly as Steve led me over to sit on the black sofa. I let my tired body sink onto the soft cushions as I let out a tired sigh.

"Greek, huh?" he responded, "That's interesting. Was your mother Greek?"

"Yes," I responded quietly. "It's meaning is 'Gift of the Moon'." Bruce nodded his head as he looked over at me and offered another smile.

"That's very pretty," Clint said, "And your middle name?"

"Eir," I said with a small smile. At this, Thor raised his eyebrows at me.

"Eir?" He questioned in his deep voice. "That is the name of the Goddess of-"

"Healing and Medicine," I responded with a slight smile. "I know." He smiled at my knowledge. Most people are usually shocked at my knowledge. And by most people, I mean my teachers. I don't have any friends. They all think I'm weird. I am weird.

"You are quite smart for being so young," Thor said as he looked back at the window, "How old are you, child?"

"Fifteen," I replied as I stared out of the window as well. You could see all of New York. It was a breathtaking city; even more beautiful than Boston in my opinion.

"Wow," said Clint. I turned to him with a questioning look. "You act much older."

I nodded. "I get that a lot."

"Where you from?" asked Bruce as he looked up from his computer, closing it lightly.

"Boston," I responded quietly. I hoped they didn't ask any other specifics. I wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of telling people I was homeless. They usually responded with disgust, pity, or sympathy. I didn't particularly like any of those feelings directed towards me, especially the feeling of disgust.

"Cool," he responded simply. No one said anything for a while, the silence content and comfortable. No one dared to break it for a long while. That is, until Steve spoke up.

"So, Isadora," he said as he looked at me from his spot on the sofa on my left, "What do you like to do? Do you have any hobbies? What's your favorite color?" He rambled on. I didn't really know how to respond; too many questions at once.

"Don't overwhelm the poor girl," said Bruce. Steve blushed lightly as he looked down. I immediately felt bad for not replying soon enough.

"It's okay, Steve," I said with a small smile. He looked up and smiled too. "Um, I enjoy reading and drawing. I guess those could be considered as my hobbies. I like math and science. I'm pretty good at it. I like flowers, too. And I don't have a favorite color; they're all beautiful."

Natasha looked at me questioningly with her head cocked to the side. "You like all colors? What about black or brown or grey?"

I nodded my head for what felt like the billionth time today. "Yes, even those."

"Strange," she replied with a small smile.

"I know I am," I responded with a grin. Everyone let out a light laugh at that.

"So, you said you like flowers?" asked Steve again. Why all the questions? Did I really seem that interesting of a person? I simply nodded my head once again. "What kind is your favorite? Or do you not have a favorite, just like colors?" I laughed at his words.

"No," I said still laughing, "My favorite flowers are tulips. Yellow, red, and pink ones, specifically." He nodded his head at my words.

"What are your plans for the future?" asked Bruce all of a sudden. I looked at him with confused eyes. Now that I knew my father, I didn't really know anymore.

"Um," I said quietly, "I'm not too sure anymore. I don't know if my father is going to want to be a part of it or not." I looked down, saddened by the thought. Tony seemed to like me, but I didn't know if he was planning to stick around for the rest of my life.

"Do not say that, child," Thor said as he walked over to me. He grabbed my chin lightly with his large fingers and pulled my head up softly. His big blue eyes showed with sincerity and care. I liked that look. "I am sure that Sir Stark would love to have you as a daughter." I smiled at his words. Then realization hit me.

"Wait," I asked shocked, "Did you say 'Stark'? As in, 'Tony Stark'?" My breathing began to grow rapid as I thought about his words. Stark. Tony Stark. Oh my god.

"Yeah," Bruce said confused, "Didn't he tell you his name?"

"Yes," I responded as I got up quickly and began to pace the room. "But he didn't say his last name was Stark!"

Oh my god. Oh no. Oh goodness.

My father was Tony Stark, the genius playboy billionaire. I was Iron Man's daughter! Why didn't it click in my head sooner? The Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D! Why didn't I see all these clues? I knew all about Tony Stark and his story. How he got kidnapped in Afghanistan and built a mini Arc Reactor to keep the shrap metal out if his chest. And how he made the suit and about Obadiah Stane and Ivan Vanko. I knew all of that.

I began to pace the room even faster, all these thoughts filling my head. What am I going to do? I'm pretty sure some billionaire genius doesn't want a daughter when he could have everything else! Especially a homeless daughter!

"Are you okay?" questioned Clint with a worried face.

"Yes," I responded, "No. I don't know!" I crumbled down to the floor and did the only thing I could think of.

I began to cry into my hands. Sobs wracked my whole body as tears fell profusely from eyes. I felt someone's arms wrap around me and immediately identified them as Steve. I recognized his cologne from earlier.

At first, I had begun to cry about my father. But now, I couldn't stop. I cried for my father, for my mother. I cried for myself and for the life I had. I had never cried during my life on the streets. I just couldn't stop. All the pain and anger I had kept in throughout the years was let out in my continuously flowing tears.

I gasped for yet another breath of air as Steve held me tighter to his chest. I was blinded by my tears and couldn't see what was going on around me.

"Sweetheart, calm down."

"Is she alright?"

"Get her to the medical wing."

"Hurry!"

All these voices swirled around my head as I felt myself being lifted in a pair of strong arms. I still couldn't see, but I felt us moving quickly. I was in a blank state of mind. I couldn't feel or think anything. I just kept crying and crying. I began to have a hard time breathing, choking and coughing on the air.

"Quickly, Steve!"

I felt us move even faster and my head was still whirling. Met with a gush of wind from what I assumed was a door being opened, I was immediately laid on something soft. I tried to look up, but was just me with a blurry, blinding white light. I was still sobbing and gasping for air.

"What have you done to my daughter?!" was the last thing I heard before I began to slip into unconsciousness. My vision began to have black spots as my mind was still spinning. All the voices surrounding me began to fade out as I felt someone poke a needle into my arm.

'Father' was my last thought before I fell into the darkness as well.

Like father, like daughter.


	5. Chapter 5

The walls were a light blue, and I was lying on the only bed in the room. No paintings or pictures hung on the wall, just a large window that overlooked the city on the east side. Turning to my right, my eyes grew as big as saucers.

I saw a large vase full of yellow tulips, balloons, stuffed animals and other various gifts. Who in the hell were they for? Who were they from? They certainly couldn't be for me. I couldn't have been unconscious for that long. And, besides; No one cares enough to buy me gifts. I just met these people for crying out loud!

Suddenly, the automatic door slid open and in walked Bruce, Steve, Natasha, and Tony. Oh boy.

"How are you feeling, Isadora?" asked Bruce as he went over to the machine I was hooked up to and checked what I assumed were my vitals.

"Fine," I replied quietly, "How long was I out?"

"Two days," he said as Natasha and Steve came up to me and brushed my hair out of my face. I gave them a small smile in return. They were my first friends in such a long time. I knew I cared for them greatly, even though it's been a few hours. Oh wait.

Wait, what?

"Two days?!" I almost yelled out as the reality of his words hit me. I had never slept that long in my life. The most I've ever been asleep was about six hours. No one sleeps for two days straight! What the hell happened to me?

"What happened?" I asked as I sat up in the bed. I clutched my aching head as Natasha propped up the pillow behind me. I thanked her quietly as I leaned back.

"You fainted," explained Bruce, "And your body just sort of shut down temporarily. It was its way of saying that you haven't been eating and sleeping right." I gulped at the news. All he said was the truth. When you live on the streets, you don't have the opportunity to eat or sleep much. You're always running away or trying to find shelter or fighting for your life. It was no walk in the park, that's for sure.

"Isadora," said Steve quietly, distracting me from my thoughts, as he sat down on the edge of my bed. He grabbed my hand lightly as I looked into his warm, blue eyes. "How long has it been since you've eaten?" I looked down, trying to remember how long it had been. I knew it was a long time, and I didn't want to tell them. They'd probably get mad at me.

"W-Well," I stuttered out nervously, "When you guys found me . . . it had been . . . about . . . two days." Everyone was silent as I kept my head down, too afraid to look up.

"And you've been asleep for two more," replied Natasha as she looked away towards the wall.

"YOU HAVEN'T EATEN IN FOUR DAYS?!" yelled Tony furiously as he breathed heavily. I had completely forgotten he was here, looking up shocked and flinching away slightly. I was used to people yelling at me, calling me names and telling me I was ugly. But I still reacted the same way every time.

"WHY THE HELL HAVEN'T YOU EATEN?!" he continued in a fit of rage. Bruce tried to calm him down, but it was to no avail. Tony was still breathing raggedly as his fists were bunched up into tights balls at his side.

Hesitating slightly, I whispered, "I . . . I don't . . . I don't have any money." Finally managing to get the words out of my mouth, I couldn't help but let a few tears leak out of my eyes. I looked up at Tony, shocked at what I saw.

Tony POV

I couldn't stop the tears as they poured over my eyes.

My child . . . starving and homeless.

I couldn't breathe right. I felt like I was going to vomit and pass out at the same time. Walking over to the small chair, I sat down and buried my face in my hands. I began to cry like a small child, not being able to contain my emotions.

The sound of retreating footsteps met my ears as the others left the room, in what I assumed as a manner of giving my daughter and me some privacy. I just continued to cry, letting all the anger, rage and self-hate come out through my tears.

Then I felt it.

Her small arms wound around me as she leaned my head against her bony shoulder, comforting me and telling me that everything was going to be okay. It should've been the other way around. I should have been comforting her. She was the one who needed it the most, not me.

I wrapped my arms around her small waist and clutched her to my chest, tears flowing even more freely. Burying my face into her shoulder, I muttered the same thing over and over again.

"I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry," I sobbed out. We just held each other for the next few minutes, my tears finally coming to a halt. It had felt so good to cry, to let out all the anger that had built up inside of me. It's like a dam was broken in my heart, all my emotions flooding out and taking over.

Isadora pulled back from my embrace and looked at me with a small smile. I noticed that her eyes were puffy and red. So she had been crying too.

"Are you okay?" I asked her pathetically. Like hell she was, Tony.

She nodded her head with a small smile. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"How about we get some breakfast?" I tell her as I get up from the chair, pulling her with me. We walked hand in hand over to the doors, stepping out into the cool hallway and making our way to the cafeteria.

"That sounds absolutely wonderful," she said with a small smile, but faltering soon after. "But, I don't have enough money for a whole meal."

I frowned at her words. "Don't worry. The food here is free." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, asking me if I was telling the truth. I simply nodded my head and offered her a smile, leading her into the cafeteria.

The rest of the team was in there as well. They all sat around the table, talking and laughing. Natasha was the first one to notice our entrance, getting up from her chair and quickly making her way over to where we stood.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked Isadora as she gave her a small hug. Everyone's eyes were bulging out of their sockets. Natasha was a mean, cold hearted bitch. Everyone knew that. She was nice to no one. But I guess that Isadora was the exception to the rule.

Isadora just nodded and gave her a smile. Natasha made her way back to her seat as I led us over to the table of food.

"Get whatever you want," I tell her quietly as I hand her a plate. She takes it cautiously on her hands, like she was afraid it would shatter on contact. She stared at the large amount of food with awe, her eyes shining with pure hunger.

I grabbed a banana, a box of dry cereal, and blueberry muffin. Looking over to see what Isadora had picked out, a small smile appeared on my face. She had grabbed about one of everything, cramming all the food onto the small plate. She had noticed my stare and gave me a small laugh.

"I'm a little hungry," she said quietly. I couldn't help but to laugh at her words.

"I know, sweetheart," I said as we walked over to the table, "I know." We joined the rest of the table, me sitting next to Bruce and Isadora sitting next to Steve and me.

I ate my breakfast slowly as we talked with one another.

"How are you feeling, Lady Isadora?" Thor asked in his booming voice. That guy really didn't know what an inside voice was.

Isadora looked up from her plate, food stuffed in her mouth. She blushed as we all laughed at her, chewing quickly and swallowing. Smiling, she replied in a small voice.

"I'm feeling good, thank you." Thor nodded in content as he went back to eating his Poptarts. Him and those damn Poptarts. He consumed about three boxes every day. Thor, God of Thunder and Lightning, is addicted to Poptarts.

"So," Clint began kind of awkwardly.

"So," the rest of us said in unison, not knowing what to talk about. We all laughed at our own stupidity. For being Earth's Mightiest Heroes, we sure did have sucky imaginations.

"I have an idea," Isadora whispered with a big smile on her beautiful face. All of us looked toward her, intrigued at what this little wonder had to say.

Good god, Tony. You've become weak, man.

"How about we go around the table and list an odd fact about ourselves. Like, maybe a weird talent or extra appendage." Everyone busted out laughing, Bruce and Clint putting their heads on the table and howling with laughter. Even little Isadora gave a small chuckle.

"That sounds fun," said Cap-sicle as he looked at Isadora, "You begin, sweetie." She blushed and looked down, smiling at her feet. Oh no. Now I have to deal with boys. Lovely.

"Oh, I know!" she said excitedly, "I can speak five other languages." All of our eyes widened at the news. What the hell? Where did she learn to do that?

"Oh, yeah," said Clint as he leaned back in his chair, "She's Tony's, all right." I gave a small laugh as I looked over to my daughter.

"What languages do you speak, child?" Thor asked.

"Greek, Spanish, Italian, French, and German." She replied with a smile. That smile could break anybody's heart and make them weak in the knees.

"Really?" asked Bruce, "Cuándo aprendiste a hablar tantos idiomas?"

"Siete meses," she replied with a big smile. I looked at her in complete and utter shock.

"Seven months?" I asked her in disbelief, "It only took you seven months to learn five different languages?" She just nodded her head, still smiling like the adorable little girl she was.

"Okay, now it's Tony's turn," Steve said. Oh shit. What the hell should I say? I didn't really have any hidden talents or special abilities, unless you count my geniusness.

"Oh," I said remembering something, "I have a birthmark on my back shaped like California." Isadora let out a light laugh.

"That's interesting," she replied, "You're next, Bruce." Bruce smiled and leaned back in his chair, trying to think of something that made him different other than the fact he turned into a green rage monster.

"Um," he said deep in thought, "I'm ambidextrous." Isadora smiled and nodded.

"That's handy. Thor?" Thor looked up from his box of Poptarts.

"Oh," he said in his deep voice, "I killed my first monster at age 9." We all just shook our heads. Oh, Thor. That guy was so weird.

"That's . . . manly," said Isadora, trying to find a word for such a situation. "Clint?"

"I've broken my arm eight times," he said with a smile. Everyone just stared and laughed.

"Oh, that's awful," said Isadora seriously, "Natasha?" My daughter was so strange. Her emotions could change in the blink of an eye. She was sad just a minute ago, and now she was back to being excited. Weird.

"I used to do ballet," Natasha admitted with a small smile. Wow, I didn't know that. But yet again, she was Russian. That was a big thing on their country. I just couldn't imagine Natasha as a ballerina, jumping around in a tutu.

"Oh, that's beautiful," Isadora said as she clasped her hands together and raised them to her chest, "I've always loved ballet. I used to-"she stopped in mid-sentence and looked down, the smile disappearing from her face as she frowned. I didn't like to see my daughter frown; no father did.

"Used to what, sweetheart?" I asked quietly. She looked up with uncertainty, biting her lip nervously. I nodded to her, encouraging her to speak her mind. No one should be afraid to speak; it was their God given right.

"I used to . . . dance in the alleyways back in Boston." She replied with a grim smile. "I would pretend that I was in a grand hall, with hundreds of people in the crowd, the music blaring out from the speakers. I would dance around like I was the star of the show. . . But, I knew it wasn't real. And no matter how much I wished it was, I knew it changed nothing."

My heart kept breaking into tiny pieces every time this little girl opened her mouth. Her life, her story . . . it was something unparalleled to anything I've ever experienced. I know that I thought I had a crappy life as a kid, but now I knew I was lucky. I wish my daughter had been as well.

"Oh," was all Steve could say. He was the only one who spoke, everyone saddened by the thought of a little girl's dreams shattered by the reality of the cruel and heartless world. That shouldn't happen, but, unfortunately, it did.

"Okay," said Isadora, smiling like nothing happened. "Steve, it's your turn." He smiled at her before answering.

"Before I got the serum, when I was skinny, I used to weigh ninety pounds. Now, I weigh two hundred twenty." Isadora raised her eyebrows and kept smiling.

"That's not hard to believe, Steve," Natasha said with a small smile. She reached over and felt Steve's biceps, to which he blushed like a tomato.

"Hey, what about my biceps?" asked Clint as he flexed his muscles. We all knew that Natasha and Clint had a thing for each other. I'm pretty sure they were secretly together or something along those lines. I could tell they were absolutely crazy for each other.

"Oh, shut up," she replied as she smacked him on the head. They continued to bicker back and forth as the rest of us carried on separate conversation with each other. Bruce and Thor were talking about the climate on Asgard, while Isadora and Steve talked about what it was like in the 1940s.

I looked over at my daughter and smiled as she tilted her head back and laughed at something Steve had said. I really wasn't paying attention to the Cap-sicle, just to my beautiful daughter. It was really hard to believe that had made something so wonderful and so beautiful.

She was my greatest creation.


End file.
